music holds a memory like a flower cradles its seed the way one beat takes me back to a timeline the way the song title alone takes me back to a version of you a playlist for every mood a playlist for every chapter of my life relationships in their every wave competing in all the different ways it has defined me living as all the pieces of me finding each other when failing felt like pain instead of progress and when I look back through every playlist memories fold on top of each other words blend from my experiences to her lyrics then the present hits me and there’s a weird realization of sitting in my now could I make a song from 2017 new again? could I change the way a memory sticks? as the chorus becomes a crescendo a voice asks, “do you need it to change?” if there’s beauty in who you are now why would the past ever need to change?
There’s a reason we write about invisible feelings and forgotten times There’s a season we might sprout if we break the narrative of usual rhymes We live and experience, succeed and fail but only we decide the ending of each tale Just like we write about topics and concepts we ignore thyself like it’s just nonsense I wrote about myself last week and the challenge was unique I write about the expansiveness of life beyond the sky like it’s as easy as eating pie And some say, that’s just the way it goes writing about thyself has its woes But to me, it should be a celebration of what it means to be you, to be creation So, when I sat down to write today it started as a reflection of my display Until I came to a stop and remembered it wasn’t my truth, just words assembled So, when I stop typing and reread this part of me will most likely resist But when I lean back and read beyond the eyes most of me will see the progress as the inner prize
Author’s Note – Last week, I had to write a bio about myself for a new opportunity…and it was so much tougher than I thought :). Even though I know myself well, to put it into concrete words was not an easy task…I remember thinking “I can write about reality in a million different forms and make it rhyme like it’s nothing but writing about me seems like such a challenge.” So, I knew I needed to dive into this topic today.
If you don’t know what to write about and are looking for a prompt, let this be your sign to write about you. Challenge yourself and celebrate all that you are…it’s an experience we all need to feel a little more. This is titled “real life” because this is real life…facing thyself as who you are not who you were or who you could be.
When it takes “too long” to come together When success is harder to measure They label it “being a late bloomer” As if growth is just a rumor
I go through old words and journal entries Like the way people talk about their twenties I scan through old memories like it’s a movie I watch the way a flashback will move me
A moment knows when you’re ready When you find your flow steady Life knows when it’s time for everything to click The fire finds you, and it will stick
So, life and I met in a March from a few years ago Danced till I realized how much I could still grow Dreamed till I knew it was time to let go and fly Listened till I decided to live with an inner high
It wasn’t a waking up or a new beginning It was a decision to start winning Winning my own confidence and love To walk with consciousness within and above
To bloom is to bloom There is no space for gloom Timing flows when we don’t resist Fire glows when we’re fearless to persist
In honor of spring, here are a few unposted pieces I wrote last year when I decided I was ready to bloom. Even though I was on a posting break this time last year, I still wrote every day – it’s fun to look back on what blooming felt like back then and what it is to me now.
I remember the day when I walked away wished I said something more or stood up for me at my core
for a while, it stung all the words I wish I’d sung but gratitude healed the wound my true self, I finally found
if I ever tasted confidence it was just a higher consciousness now, it’s a flavor I know a light forever aglow
so, regret and I have met but love and I made a bet
with a little sip of remorse I’d find freedom as a course and realize I am source
Clouds are flying past the mountains Wishes are made beyond the fountains It’s like forgetting you can apply the brakes Time is frozen and there are no mistakes
We wish upon a shooting star We look for the future wide and far But looking within is not thought of and simply bizarre It’s like never checking your speed in the car
There’s so much beauty in space When there’s no clock or place Dreaming of something real Reality is a reflection of what you feel
It’s just like driving There’s a destination But the fun isn’t in arriving It’s in enjoying the duration
Purely living from the beat of our heart is a journey and an art As you would put your foot on the pedal it’s just like being your own medal
The hardest part is the beginning When I have a thought but it’s just spinning The lights are on, but I’m still a little color blind My mind and reality just waiting to be aligned
When I make it to the next part I can hear the beat of my heart The words jump to my fingers It’s all working, the flow lingers
Then comes the test Time to decide all the rest I could hold my ground and stay Or I could run in a new way
When I make a choice I re-find my voice Innovation is the track I race on Lapping versions of me every dawn
Endings are rarely easy But when I trust me, it’s breezy This piece becomes complete, now it’s time to live Life is never concrete, always a lesson to give
there are times i’m out of words and it makes me question what it means to be a writer but those speechless times bring my words to life it’s in that silence and in that zone where my words carry weight there is no word without purpose a word has a code rooted within i can sort some syllables and make sentences rhyme but there’s nothing more real than a true word stacked with another and flowing into something bigger yet the truest part of a word is what it means to me what it means to you will be different and that’s the beauty of truth we awaken our own dreams maybe that’s why there are people and there are creators
Author’s Note – I wrote this yesterday in all of 15 minutes, I was in that zone :). And upon catching up on my reader this morning, I realized today is World Poetry Day :). It is a little bit wild to me that when you follow your inner muse, it leads you to exactly what you’re meant to express. If there’s any type of perfection, that is it.
What if we got excited to be scared? What if we ran towards instead of running away? There is a joy in having dared There is a drive to not betray What if we relived an experience through new eyes? What if we loved our regrets because of all they taught us to be? Perception never lies Regrets or just how you see What if we opened the door instead of guarding our walls? What if we could see the invisible aligning? That’s where the disguise falls The fun is in the refining What if this is a dream we’re living in? What if we can be lucid and change the scene? Your reality is your own spin You create what’s seen What if change was just a theory yet to be proven? What if life always went the way you envisioned? You’d be your own illusion You’d be internally imprisoned What if we had no memory and only knew the now? What if the concept of time was simply a distraction? Memory is your teacher, but the moment will always be your vow It is, live to the clock of inner interaction What if I never find every answer? You won’t, there’s a song to life – be the dancer
our days are fragments of our lives our minutes are fragments of our hours our moments are fragments of who we are
our lives begin the moment we’re born our fragments make up our reality but our reality is made of the unforeseen so our lives begin the moment we choose to live
there’s a balance to our fragments like the way a creek will sway there are times when we’re meant to learn and times we’re meant to experience one fragment will lead to the next and then it will all make “sense”
if we were born to live then there’s more than filling the years there’s a rhythm to find and a flight to catch there’s living and failing, rising and falling a fragment needs another to connect but a fragment trusts another to teach
Author’s Note – if our little, tiny, everyday moments/fragments were speaking to us…which, they always are :).
It flies in the air It floats in how we care Doesn’t need a reason or a rhyme Just an inner season without time
Some call it a once in a while high, others a source Some just believe, others make it their course We all agreed at some point that this is living But we forgot to clarify purposeful giving
It’s in my fingertips when I write Flowing in my blood when I stay and fight Pulses through my breath in the heat of a fiery now It’s the magic string that lets my universes bow
It’s not a special skill or a chosen power It’s the choice to be what’s beyond the hour We’ve all felt it whether it’s been seen or not The moment I loved all the times I’ve fought
It’s the something that connects you and me The something that makes our words free It’s the smile when something resonates The fearless fire when a spark detonates
Author’s Note – in this piece, the words “fight/fought” are meant in the way of choosing to fight and to live rather than just getting through life or waiting for a moment to be over. Yes, “fighting” is often used in the negative but, in my life recently, it’s been one of the most positive things…and it will be that way in my writing too :).
Who knows where we go when we let go Who knows what kicks in when we give in We’re in this never-ending dance to rise and to fall We dwell in this distance of living and becoming There is no right or wrong way just a leap of knowing how to be We escape and we run to what we think is true but when we sit and stay, we bask in what truly is We wonder if we’re meant to come together or stay in pieces that simply work with each other We look up at life as if we’re under an overpass but in the most real sense, we are the life we look up to Whether your reality is your own or a borrowed piece of time it’s a gift to live outside one’s mind Living is a consistent constant and being is a chosen instant
Open book with a stash of bookmarks Sky of blue with a crimson hue A winter day with a heated night A warm meal with a cold drink Written pages with an unfinished title A story with an ending still waiting for the beginning An emotion without a thought A solution with a hidden mystery Steady with surprises Wild in peace A laugh with a deeper meaning Listening with a talking heart A magnifying glass staring into nothing Nothingness full of life A full circle with an open maze A word with an undefined definition
Am I story written or read A mystery with a solve or a solved mystery Am I the yin to my yang Or am I looking for the yang to my yin If life is my palette Am I all the different colors Or the piece being painted If life is paradoxical Where do we come up with certainty?
Just some random authentic thoughts compiled into what you’d call “ a whole piece”. In a world of paradoxes, I call it a “piece of a puzzle”. 🙂